CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE #3
“You, Tristan… you’re interesting. You have the posture of a man who thinks he’s gold. But the eyes… the eyes tell me a different story.”
Heat crawled up my neck. “What story?”
He made a thoughtful sound. “That you’re not sure what you are. And uncertainty,” he said, tapping the table once, “is the first sign of a crack.”
I didn’t rise to the bait. I met Oliver’s stare with equal measure.
“Uncertainty is awareness, Oliver, not a crack,” I said.
Oliver’s eyes lit up with interest. “Awareness,” he repeated. “A rare trait. Most boys your age mistake impulse for instinct.”
I didn’t respond, even though the word boy was aimed to make me flinch.
Stillness was my own kind of defiance. Fuck him and his weird-as-fuck ideas.
I couldn’t imagine how stifling it would be to live with this kind of bullshit spouted in my ear all day fucking long.
The man was unbearable and I’d known him for five fucking seconds.
“You’re composed,” he remarked next. “More than I expected. Most people your age… they give themselves away without realizing it.”
My pulse thudded once, hard, but my face stayed blank. “Give what away?”
Oliver’s lips parted, but before he could speak, a booming voice cut through the quiet.
“Oliver! Back so soon!”
We both turned as a large man strode over, wiping his hands on a towel, grinning as if he’d just spotted a celebrity. Oliver’s expression changed. He was instantly pleasant, the mask sliding into place easily.
“Morning, Tom,” he said blandly.
Tom clapped him on the shoulder. “Heading up Old Mill Road? Thought you might be out hunting this early. Perfect time for medium-sized game—coyotes, maybe a young buck if you’re lucky.”
Oliver’s smile didn’t falter, but annoyance briefly flickered in his eyes. “Just checking on the place,” he said smoothly. “Making sure everything’s in order.”
Tom nodded. “Good idea. You get those traps working again? Any sight of that cougar prowling around?”
“I’m not allowed to set traps for a cougar,” Oliver returned. “I got my hunting rifle, though.”
“Ah, yes. Well, if you’re hunting, watch yourself. That cat’s still out there, I’m sure of it. If you got some game, that big bastard will smell it from a mile away.”
Oliver’s jaw tightened, but he kept his voice pleasant. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Tom chuckled. “With him constantly prowling like he is, you’d think animals have a natural tendency to just drop dead on your land, huh?”
“If you have a cabin in the woods, you must live among the wild.”
They spoke some more. Tom led the conversation while Oliver played nicely. Then Tom gave him another hearty pat and wandered off toward the kitchen.
Oliver watched Tom disappear, then turned back to me. The pleasant expression drained from his face like water slipping off glass.
“People talk too much,” he said softly. “But he’s made me realize I’ve lost track of time. If you’re going to ask for permission to perform, he’s the owner. I’m sure seeing me with you will gain you some approval.”
Before I could respond, he stood up. “Come outside with me. Let’s clear the air a bit.”
We dropped some cash on the table, and out we went into the early morning air. Oliver walked to his car, and I kept a good distance away. My body roared not to get close to him. My legs felt heavy and shackled. I glanced back once at the pub and then back at Oliver.
He popped open his trunk and opened a large cooler.
“It’s going to be a hot day, isn’t it?” Pulling out a cold bottle of water, he turned to face me and tossed it.
I caught it quickly, my gaze still firmly fixed on him.
What now? I wanted to ask. But my lips remained sealed. Something in me felt off. Despite the encroaching heat, my body shivered.
“I regret my conduct,” Oliver said suddenly, wincing. “I wasn’t myself in there just now.”
Bullshit, I wanted to say. I had a feeling he was perfectly himself, but I didn’t state that. I just watched him as he ran a hand through his thick hair.
“I’m going to be candid. There’s something about you, Tristan, that bothers me,” he explained. “You feel threatening. Maybe it’s to do with my wife.”
His stare intensified.
“I saw the way you looked at her. And then I saw the way she looked at you. My bride. My fucking wife. Looking at you. Maybe I’m more upset with her than you. She’s… hard sometimes.”
He looked distant, his teeth baring with a heavy emotion.
“Her nature is to be submissive, but there’s a side of her… this part of her she keeps from me. I’ve tried everything to reach it.”
His face had gone a light shade of red. I couldn’t tell whether he was pissed or frustrated, but his eyes found mine again, and they chilled me.
“It would be best if you moved along, Tristan. You should jump inside that van of yours and drive, and don’t stop driving until you’re far enough away. I don’t want to catch you in my rearview mirror again.”
Then he rounded his car and climbed in.
Moments later, he was gone, leaving me under the morning sun with a bottle of water and the uneasy sense that I had come too close to something I didn’t understand.